Chapter Thirty-Eight: Houtu, the Ancestral Witch

“Sister Houtu, what’s the matter with you?” Ancestor Di Jiang asked, his gaze shifting to Tongtian, who stepped forward, his expression full of questions.

Tongtian seemed not to hear Ancestor Di Jiang’s words and continued toward Ancestor Houtu’s side.

Seeing Tongtian’s forlorn appearance, Ancestor Houtu involuntarily took several steps back. When she heard Tongtian say, “Lian’er, do you know how much I’ve missed you? Every day and night, I think of you. Seeing you brings me such joy—”

As these words reached her ears, Ancestor Houtu’s expression grew dazed, and her feet unconsciously moved toward Tongtian.

Meanwhile, Primordial Lord of Heaven and Supreme Elder Lord approached, grabbing Tongtian’s hand to keep him from advancing. The situation was so delicate that one careless move might spark a calamity, so Supreme Elder Lord and Primordial Lord of Heaven held Tongtian back.

The ancestral Wu were baffled; what was happening? Ancestor Di Jiang and the mysterious Ancestor Xuanming, who had accompanied Houtu, quickly decided to block Houtu’s path with a flicker of their forms.

“Tongtian! Tongtian! Little Lingbao, wake up!” Primordial Lord of Heaven shouted loudly in Tongtian’s ear.

Tongtian’s gaze cleared at these words, and he realized the person before him was not his Lian’er. Reminded of his days spent with her, he felt a pang of loss.

“I was discourteous. I hope you can forgive me,” Tongtian bowed to Houtu. At this, Supreme Elder Lord and Primordial Lord of Heaven sighed in relief and released Tongtian’s arm.

“It’s nothing. I merely recalled some things,” Ancestor Houtu replied to Tongtian.

“Sister Houtu, what was that just now?” Ancestor Gonggong asked, curiosity written all over his face.

“It’s nothing, nothing at all,” Ancestor Houtu laughed, pulling Ancestor Xuanming away, vanishing from everyone’s sight.

Watching Houtu’s departure, Tongtian felt disappointed. He must forget Lian’er; she could not appear here, and besides, he was now Tongtian, no longer Tian Tong.

Tongtian handed the gourd and the little gourd on its vine to Ancestor Di Jiang, then left with Supreme Elder Lord and Primordial Lord of Heaven, returning to Kunlun Mountain.

A thousand years passed just like that. During that millennium, Tongtian met no one, nor did his strength advance. He was lost in thoughts of Ancestor Houtu.

Supreme Elder Lord and Primordial Lord of Heaven, seeing Tongtian in such a state, felt troubled and asked Lady Taiyuan to comfort him.

“Tongtian, do you perhaps fancy Ancestor Houtu of the Wu tribe?” Upon entering his chamber, Lady Taiyuan saw Tongtian lost in thought atop his couch. After recalling the accounts given by Supreme Elder Lord and Primordial Lord of Heaven, she reached this conclusion.

“It’s not that. She is not her,” Tongtian murmured, gently shaking his dazed head.

“What do you mean?” Lady Taiyuan pressed.

Tongtian wanted to speak, but hesitated—how could he admit he had crossed worlds? Seeing his reluctance, Lady Taiyuan sighed softly: “If you like her, then pursue her.” With that, she left the cultivation room without another word.

Tongtian could not forget the beautiful days spent with Lian’er. How could one simply forget such memories?

Perhaps he should venture out—he might come across some spiritual treasures and find some happiness.

Tongtian departed Kunlun Mountain, flying south. He arrived at the edge of the Blood Sea, gazing at the souls and baleful energies being drawn in, lost in thought.

Looking up, he saw a graceful figure pacing along the shore of the Blood Sea. Looking closer—wasn’t that Ancestor Houtu?

Emotion surged uncontrollably; Tongtian was reminded of the moment he reunited with his wife. It had been by a clear river, with Lian’er sitting on the bank, shoes off and feet bare, playfully kicking at the water. Tongtian saw her in her delight and sang:

There is a beauty, unforgettable at first sight.
One day apart, I long for her madly.
A phoenix flies, soaring, searching the world for its mate.
Alas, the fair one is not behind the eastern wall.
I use my harp to speak, expressing my feelings.
When will you consent, to ease my wandering heart?
Would that we be paired in virtue, hand in hand.
If not, I am lost, adrift.

This was a song Sima Xiangru gifted to Zhuo Wenjun in the Han dynasty.

With a turn of the scene, Tongtian sang “Seeking the Phoenix.”

Ancestor Houtu was puzzled—why did Tongtian evoke such a stirring feeling in her heart? Suddenly, she heard the song of love, turned, and saw that it was none other than Tongtian, one of the Three Pure Ones.

Ancestor Houtu’s face was full of astonishment; her silver teeth bit her lip as if making a decision. Watching Tongtian recite the song and approach her step by step, she was finally moved by his deep affection and replied, “I am willing, I am willing.” Her face blushed; she lowered her head, not daring to meet Tongtian’s eyes.

Tongtian thought he was merely reminiscing about the past, but when he came to himself, he found he was holding Ancestor Houtu tightly. His heart leapt in surprise, but he caught the fragrance on Houtu’s body—the same as his wife’s.

Time stood still, as if mirrored, freezing the two together, motionless. Ancestor Houtu felt a strange sense of familiarity with Tongtian, though she could not explain it. Quietly embracing each other, both felt the warmth in their hearts—a gentle, intimate comfort.

Tongtian slowly released his hold and asked, “How did you come here?”

Feeling the awkwardness between them, Ancestor Houtu slipped free of his arms and said, “When I first saw you, a marvelous feeling arose in my heart, stronger even than what I feel for my brothers. So I’ve spent centuries here alone.”

“I’m sorry—it’s my fault, I shouldn’t—” Tongtian, seeing her aggrieved look, felt remorseful, but before he could finish, Ancestor Houtu stopped him.

“That’s not my main concern. Look at these confused souls being swallowed by the Blood Sea, turned into its fuel—I cannot bear it. Secondly, my tribe cannot cultivate their primordial spirits, so they lack even the chance to seize another body. My heart aches,” Ancestor Houtu turned her back to Tongtian.

Tongtian immediately grasped the crux of the matter and said, “I can open a space for these wandering souls to be reborn and enter the cycle of reincarnation!”

As soon as he spoke, Tongtian regretted it. Though he hadn’t directly suggested Houtu transform herself into the Underworld, he had already divulged Heaven’s secret. He quickly shook his head, saying, “I misspoke, I misspoke.”

Tongtian had finally found his soulmate; he couldn’t bear to lose her after so little time together.

Hearing Tongtian’s words, Ancestor Houtu seemed to understand something. She stayed motionless, closed her eyes, her spirit wandering across the great wilderness. All she saw was slaughter. If it wasn’t Wu fighting against Yao, it was Yao tribes quarreling among themselves.

Resentment and baleful energy filled the world. Though the Blood Sea absorbed some, the souls of the dead still drifted everywhere.

Ancestor Houtu opened her eyes, dropped to her knees, facing Mount Buzhou, and spoke: “Brothers, Houtu goes now.”

Her tears became rain, falling to the ground without a trace of sorrow. Ancestor Houtu had made up her mind; she had found her path.

Only by holding fast to her own way could she save her people, could she rescue all beings of the world.